Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)

He flipped off the kitchen lights. She blinked in the sudden darkness, then heard more than saw him walk across the room and open a sliding glass door. Moonlight illuminated the shadow of him disappearing onto what would be the back deck of the house. She followed.

There were a few lounge chairs and a couple of small tables. Forest stretched out beyond the railing. The trees angled down—Gideon hadn’t been kidding about the house being on the side of a mountain.

She settled in a chair close to his, with one of the tables between them. She rested her head against the cushions and stared up at the star-filled sky. The half-moon had nearly cleared the mountain, illuminating the quiet forest and still mountain.

The air was cool, but not cold. In the distance she heard the faint hoot of an owl. An occasional leaf rustled.

“I can see why you like it here,” she said, reaching for her beer. “It’s restful. You’re close enough to town to get to the station but far enough away to not have to deal with too many unexpected visitors.” She smiled. “Excluding me, of course.”

“I like it.”

“Do you get snowed in during the winter?”

“I didn’t last year. We hardly had any snow. But it’s going to happen.” He shrugged. “I’m prepared.”

He would be, she thought, because of his military training. She’d noticed that she and Justice often came at a problem from different angles but with the same objective. And speaking of her friend...

“I couldn’t talk to Justice about this,” she said.

Gideon raised his eyebrows. “All right.”

“I thought you’d want to know why. Because he and I are like family.” She turned on the lounge chair, angling herself toward him.

He was in silhouette again. A powerful man momentarily tamed. Her gaze drifted to his hands. She was tall, but with Gideon she’d felt delicate. For a few hours in his bed, she hadn’t been frighteningly brilliant or freakishly organized. She’d been a woman—just like everyone else.

“So what’s the problem?”

For a second she thought he was referring to her study of his hands, and the resulting memories. “It’s the town.”

“You don’t like it here?”

“I like it very much.” She drew in a breath. “The mayor has asked me to take over running the festivals. Pia Moreno had been doing it for several years, but she already has three kids and is pregnant with a fourth. It’s too much for her.”

Gideon shrugged. “You’d be perfect for the job.”

“On the surface. The logistics would be easy enough, but that’s not the point. It’s the significance.”

“Of the festivals?”

She nodded. “They are the heartbeat of the town. Time is measured by the festivals. When I go out with my friends, they often talk about festivals from the past, or what’s coming up. Why is Mayor Marsha willing to trust them to me?”

“Because she thinks you’ll do a good job.”

“Of course I’ll do the work. It’s more than that.”

“You’re scared.”

Felicia drew in a breath. “I wouldn’t say scared.”

He took a drink of his beer. “You can pick some big word if you want, but you mean scared. You don’t want to let them down and you’re afraid you’re going to.”

“I thought I was the most direct person in any conversation,” she murmured.

* * *

GIDEON LEANED BACK in his chair and closed his eyes. It was safer than looking at Felicia, especially in moonlight. With her big green eyes and flame-red hair, she was a classic beauty. How would she describe herself? Ethereal, maybe. He smiled.

“This isn’t funny,” she told him.

“It kind of is.” But not for the reason she thought. His situation was more ironic.

He’d built his house and designed his life so that he chose if and when he interacted with anyone. Last night Ford had been his surprise guest. Tonight it was Felicia. The difference was he’d been comfortable around his friend. Not so much with the woman sitting only a few feet away.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, it was that he was aware. Of the soft sound of her breathing. Of the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. Of how she occasionally looked at him like she was remembering them naked together.

Wanting stirred. It had been dormant so long that the physical act of blood rushing to his groin was painful. Thinking pure thoughts didn’t help, mostly because he didn’t have any where she was concerned. Of course now he was left with a hard-on and nowhere to put it, so to speak.

He glanced at Felicia and wondered what she would say if he told her he wanted her. Any other woman would be flustered or embarrassed. A few might start taking off their clothes as a way to say yes. But what about Felicia?

He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance she would discuss the biological process of arousal and an erection in such scientific terms that the blood would retreat in self-defense, thereby solving the problem. On the other hand, she could do what she’d done when they’d met in Thailand—look him directly in the eye and ask if he wanted to have sex with her.

“You were the most beautiful woman in that bar,” he told her. “I was surprised when you came over to talk to me.”